The Freak

6:58am

Ace wasn't sure what she thought she was going to get out of that detention, but it sure wasn't quite what she ended up with.

The ugly brick school building glared down at her as she peddled up the driveway on her bike.

Shermer highschool, her own personal hell. The only thing that kept her here was the threat of something much, much worse.

"Why is the bike rack so far away from everything?" She muttered to herself, turning around to the side of the school.

The chilly March air stung her hands as she fiddled with her bike lock, pausing to itch a hand through her short brown hair anxiously.

As soon as she finished her hands were jammed down into her jacket pockets, heading through the parking lot to the main entrance.

A black car, a camaro, came speeding into the lot, stopping just in front of the building.

Ace watched as a red headed girl, Claire Standish, she told herself, they had acting and theater together, plus English, climbed out of the car, hurrying up the school steps.

Quickening the pace, Ace crossed the main strip as the black car pulled away, only to make a noise of surprise and jump out of the way as a beat up old truck pulled in, the driver barely noticing her enough to stop.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

She turned around to see a blond-haired boy leaning out of the car, repeating, "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She nodded, rushing away up the steps.

Andrew Clark, her brain supplied, they had History and Chemistry together, and when she went into the lunch room everyday to grab her food and leave, he sat two tables from the door.

Halfway to the library, he'd caught up to her, "Hey! Do you know where we're supposed to go for detention?"

"In the library," She said, shrugging in her jacket, "Don't- don't they tell you that?"

"No?" He frowned.

They continued to walk along in silence, before he offered, "I'm Andrew, Andrew Clark."

"I know." She hummed, turning into the library.

Claire was already sitting in the front row, and another boy (Brian Johnson, they'd had math together for three years in a row), was sitting one row back.

Andrew sighed, moving around her and sitting down at the table in the front.  Ace bit her lip, muttering things about how people were always in her place as she paced toward the back row.

By the time Bender came in Ace was pacing back and forth behind the rows of tables, biting at her knuckle. He stopped in going through the things on the librarian's counter to watch her for a moment, before looking at everyone else in the room.

Another girl hurried in, head down, plopping into a seat at the back. The others' eyes followed her, but they stayed facing the back, watching Ace's pacing.

"What's her deal?" Andrew muttered.

Rolling his eyes, Bender walked up to the first table, knocking on it, "Uhh, Sporto, you're in Ace's seat."

"These seats aren't assigned." He said, turning to look up at Bender.

"Yeah, but it's her seat. You asked what her deal was, you're in her seat."

"She can sit somewhere else can't she?" Andrew asked.

Bender rolled his eyes, half shaking his head, "When she imploades, it's your fault."

As he moved back to sit in his own seat behind Claire, Andrew turned to look back at Ace. The girl continued to pace, one of her hands working deeper and deeper into her pocket, the other flapping about by her side.

Sighing, he grabbed his bag, moving across the row to sit in the empty seat next to Claire, "Can I sit here?"

She nodded.

Ace noticed as soon as he moved, hurrying forward and dropping into her seat with a sigh, squeaking out, "Thank you."

"Well, well, well," Vernon began as he entered the Library, "I'd like to congratulate you all on arriving on time."

"Actually sir, I think there's been a mistake, I don't belong here." Claire said, raising her hand.

Vernon ignored her, "It is seven o six-"

"Seven oh eight." Ace corrected quickly.

"I don't recall asking you, Ms. Franco," He snapped, almost grinning when she flinched back into her seat, "You have eight hours and fifty two minutes, to think about what you've done, to really see the error of your ways..."

Ace frowned, itching a hand through her hair again, "Didn't realize there was an error-"

She was cut off by another glare from the teacher, "There will be no talking, no moving, no... sleeping. I want you all to write an essay, about who you are, no less than one thousand words. And now repeating one word over and over again, Mr. Bender, do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Bender grumbled.

"Good, because my office is just across the hall. Any monkey business is ill advised. Any questions?" He warned.

"Yeah I got one," Bender said, leaning forward, "Does Barry Manilow know you raided his wardrobe?"

Andrew turned as Ace burst out with a loud laugh, and Vernon rolled his eyes, "I'll give you the answer to that one, in next week's detention."

"That's not fair." She muttered, tugging at the cuff of her sleeve.

"Then you'll be right in there with him, missy," He snapped, "If I wanted a freaks opinion I'd ask for it."

As he walked from the room, Andrew couldn't help but glare at his back. Bender muttered profanities, crumpling up his paper and throwing it forward aimlessly.